


Push Me

by Jet44



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet44/pseuds/Jet44
Summary: In the early days of Neal's release into Peter's custody, the two share a bonding moment while working a case late at night.





	Push Me

Peter grinned, watching Neal saunter away down the hall. He couldn't help thinking of all the "helpful" warnings.

In addition to wrecking his career, stealing everything he owned, and possibly murdering a few stray family members just because, Neal was supposed to be struggling to re-adjust. Getting ejected from a maximum security prison straight into a full-time job as an FBI investigator wasn't an easy thing to cope with. Peter had done his research, and was doing his damndest to offer both the emotional support and strict structure Neal was supposed to need.

But the man was a delight. An annoying, impertinent, stable, confident, adorable delight. Peter had a dozen new grey hairs and one new friend. 

Neal returned with coffee and case files. "I thought you were kidding about working through the night. Surely you've noticed all the sane people went home two hours ago."

"Cowboy up," Peter ordered. "They let you complain this much in prison?"

Neal, for once, didn't retort. He just sipped his coffee. A few minutes later, he passed Peter a paper. "This is Ganson's work too."

Peter raised his eyebrows. The style was opposite Ganson's usual style of pinpoint precise brushstrokes. "You sure?"

"Look at the curve of the waves. Where they crest and curl over, look at how he flicks the brush at the end of the stroke. Same guy."

Peter whistled. "I think I'm keeping you."

Neal's expression filled with longing and worry. Affection, and pain. "Are you?" he asked in a soft voice.

The office was quiet, and they were alone. Neal clearly felt more comfortable revealing emotion without an audience. "As long as they let me," said Peter. "Against all sense of logic or self-preservation, I like having you around."

Neal looked down at the table, indirectly hiding his face from Peter. "This is -- a really ....you've probably never done anything that's  -- it's a really huge deal to me. You saved me -- are saving me -- from the most desolate, soul-destroying.... I know I might have to go back there, and I'm braced for it, but if you ever question how much this means to me...."

Neal Caffrey at a loss for words. Peter wasn't sure how to respond. This was an overture of friendship and vulnerability, and he didn't want to blow it.

Neal misinterpreted his silence. "I'm not asking for pity," he said hurriedly. "I know I deserve to be in prison, and what I really just wanted to say is it's nice to be cared about, and thank you. I'm sorry."

Peter walked around to Neal's side of the table and put a hand on his back. Neal's heart was racing under his hand, and his breathing was slow and uneven. But his shoulders fell forward a little, relaxing at Peter's touch. The guy really had been at the mercy of other people for years, and it'd clearly not been a fun experience.

"You're doing amazing, Neal," said Peter. "Hang in there." He hesitated. "Am I doing okay? Am I pushing you too hard?"

Neal raised his head and gave Peter a look of total, fierce adoration. "You push me all you want."

Peter gave him a light shove, just enough to throw him off balance in his seat a little. Neal snorted, grinning from ear to ear. "Did you actually just make a physical pun?"


End file.
